He Hurt Me with Words

You and I are just numbers and I was never good at math

I wish we were colors, then I’d know where true beauty is at

I touch your soul and you touch my thigh

I write your words to tuck me to sleep

Erase her name on your skin to make room for mine I hope my name will be the one you keep

Her skin is selective

You like to be an exception

But she’s struggling because she’s a goal

Not a direction

Scribbled in the margins, an afterthought

Never the theme, forgotten food left to rot

Take care of yourself, remember to eat

Take care of yourself, after I leave.